


Champagne and Hors d'oeuvres

by whitedandelions



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Oral Sex, Season 1 Spoilers, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-08 02:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12854871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitedandelions/pseuds/whitedandelions
Summary: Back on Earth, Eleanor waitresses at a charity event Tahani hosts.  They keep meeting, until Tahani takes Eleanor back to her hotel room.  Eleanor/Tahani





	Champagne and Hors d'oeuvres

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elegantstupidity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elegantstupidity/gifts).



> I read your prompt about them meeting on Earth, and got too excited and didn’t finish reading it. Whoops. Even though it’s only two sentences lol, so here’s them actually meeting. Hope you enjoy regardless, because you are an awesome person and you deserve good things! Thank you <3.
> 
> also disclaimer: i definitely do not share Eleanor's views on the environment

It’s easy money.

Show up at four, put on a stupid uniform, and remember her customer service training lessons from way back when. 

It’s only for a few hours.  And plus, Eleanor can eat as many of the hors d'oeuvres as she wants.  She’s mastered the art of sneaking some when no one’s looking.

Plus, at a snazzy event like this, they’re bound to be drunk off champagne.  It’s what rich people do.  Drink and talk about made up problems.  Then go home and gossip about who wore what. 

She doesn’t even really remember what the event is for.  Some charity or something.  It’s one of those events where the attendees have to pay exorbitant amounts of money to go to.  Like a status symbol or something.  They definitely don’t care about where their money’s going to.  She bets it’s for some stupid charity to save the environment.  Why do they care so much?  It’s not like they’re going to live long enough to see it all go to shit anyway.

She finishes putting on her lip gloss, smacking her lips and smoothing out the uneven edges. 

Time to go earn some money.

* * *

She’s bored out of her mind.

Rich people talk about the most inane things.

She wanders the floor, handing out hors d'oeuvres and champagne glasses, and ducks away just as often to eat her own.  At least her belly’s full.

“Are you eating?” the woman sounds aghast.

She sighs, and turns.  Great.  She thought the garden would be a sufficient place to hide.  It’s windy and cold, and she thought none of them would have come outside to look at some plants.  (Though maybe the charity is for the environment and the lot of them love the outside.  It would be her luck.)

“Yes, darling,” she says, and stops mid-sentence.  The woman in front of her is strikingly beautiful.  She has high cheekbones, masterfully applied make-up, and her _body_.  Her dress is like sparkling starlight and it leaves nothing to the imagination, emphasizing her curves and her _especially_ ample bosom.

She’s in love.

“You’re the help,” says the woman, and great, she’s now reminded of why rich people suck.  “You’re not supposed to eat the hors d'oeuvres.”

She doesn’t say anything.  There’s a long silence, and then the woman continues. 

“Oh forget it,” she says, and that’s when Eleanor notices that the woman’s been crying.  “Did you like it, at least?”

“The hors d'oeuvres?”

“No!” snaps the woman.  “The event.”

“Er, yeah, I guess.”

The woman looks like she’s going to burst into tears and ruin her make-up.  Eleanor can’t have that.  If she’s going to be accosted and maybe fired, she definitely doesn’t want having that make-up masterpiece ruined on her conscience.

“It was beautiful,” she offers up.

The woman bites her lips hard, and she looks at Eleanor with large eyes.  “You think so?”

“Sure,” she said. 

“Oh, at least _someone_ thinks so,” she says.  “What’s your name?”

She’s so going to get fired.

“Eleanor,” she says.

“Eleanor,” repeats the woman.  She smiles, and then turns to leave.  Eleanor can’t let her leave without learning her name.  She blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“What, are you not going to give your name back?”

The woman looks surprised.  “You mean you don’t know who I am?”

The silence stretches.

“Tahani,” she settles for, eventually.  “Eleanor,” she continues, “You’re really strange.” 

Eleanor doesn’t find out why Tahani said so until an hour later.  When Tahani’s left her in the garden to go up on stage and thank everyone for coming.

Oh.

Tahani’s the host.

Oops.

* * *

Surprisingly, she isn’t fired.

There’s a few events before Tahani hosts another one.  She makes more of an effort on her make-up this time.  She curls her hair. 

Tahani’s surrounded every time Eleanor sees her. 

She gives up halfway through the event.

At least the hors d'oeuvres are good.

Tahani catches her when the party’s dwindling down.  “You,” she says, and Eleanor thinks she sees recognition in her eyes.  “Where’s the manager?” she all but snaps, and Eleanor is stunned into silence. 

“What?” she asks.

Tahani sighs, loudly.  Eleanor stares in muted horror.  “The _manager_ ,” she repeats.

Tahani doesn’t remember her.  She suddenly feels stupid for putting on make-up.

“Find her yourself,” she says, and stalks away.

* * *

She still isn’t fired.  She’s flabbergasted when she gets another call for a party hosted by Tahani. 

She finally gives in and looks the girl up.  Tahani was a model.  She sets one of them as her wallpaper and another for her phone.  She’s obsessed.

Eleanor still dresses up.  It’s alright if Tahani didn’t remember her from the first encounter.  Because this time, she definitely will.

Tahani’s wearing flowers this time.  She looks beautiful. 

The event’s in a grandiose hotel.  There’s less people this time, at least for Tahani’s standards. 

She can’t get Tahani alone.  Everyone wants her attention.  She swears Tahani catches her eye but Tahani’s always whisked away before Eleanor can approach her.

The party’s ended and Eleanor sneaks away to the bathroom in the lobby after the long hours of clean-up.  The hotel’s so grand she’s sure the bathroom must be made of solid gold or something.  She’s curious.

She’s washing her hands when she hears Tahani’s voice.

“It’s you.”

She turns.  Tahani’s still wearing flowers.  “Hi,” she says. 

“Do you waitstaff for every catering place?” asks Tahani.

“It’s a company,” she explains.  “We’re hired out to help.”

There’s a tiny furrow in Tahani’s brows as she contemplates this.  “Oh,” she says.  It’s adorable.

“Well,” says Eleanor.  “Would _love_ to stay to chat,” she says, “But got a thing to go to.”

“It’s two o’clock in the morning,” says Tahani.

“Yup,” she says, “got things to do and places to be.  Toodles, beautiful.”

She’s sure Tahani watches her leave, and gives a little sway to her hips as the door swings shut.

* * *

The next party she sees Tahani at isn’t even a party Tahani is hosting.

That’s why the uniform’s a bit different from the aesthetically pleasing ones Tahani sends to the company.  It’s short and breezy, and more form-fitting than most of the outfits given by hosts. 

Eleanor loves it.

The party’s ending when a hand grabs her.  She squeaks in surprise, and is about to give whomever touched her a stern talking to when she realizes Tahani is looking at her.

“That’s a nice outfit,” says Tahani.  There’s a flush on her cheeks.  Tahani still hasn’t let go of her elbow.  They’re standing uncomfortably close.

There’s no one around.

Eleanor takes a chance.

“Want to see what it would look like on your bedroom floor?”

Tahani’s eyes widen.

There’s a long silence.  And then Tahani’s shoved her up against the wall and kissing Eleanor as if her life depends on it.

It shouldn’t have worked.

But it does.

Her outfit’s on Tahani’s hotel floor.  And Tahani’s licking into her, little flicks of her tongue that make her toes curl in pleasure.

Tahani makes her scream.  She clutches hard onto the sheets when Tahani increases the pace and whites out when she finishes. 

She’s shaking, and is struggling to focus to get Tahani off, when Tahani laughs and pushes her back down onto the bed.

“Relax, darling,” says Tahani, and climbs on top of her.  She goes slowly enough that Eleanor can stop her if she wants, but Eleanor doesn’t.  Instead, she grabs Tahani’s bottom and pulls her close enough so she can get at Tahani’s wetness.  She dives face-first into it, and licks wildly, until Tahani is coming undone on top of her.

* * *

Each party ends the same way.  Sometimes, Tahani would slip a keycard into her hand.  Other times, Tahani would want patiently until the party’s over and then drag her to her hotel room.

“You know,” Eleanor says, when they’re resting in the post-coitus glow.  “You don’t have to host a party just to see me.  I do own a cell-phone.”

Tahani laughs, and pats Eleanor’s cheek.  “Oh darling,” she says, “You think I’m hosting these parties just to see you?”

“You ain’t fooling anyone, sweetcheeks,” she says, and delights in the way the hot flush looks on Tahani’s cheeks.

* * *

They’re starting slow. 

Coffee.

She has Tahani’s number in her cell phone now. 

Eleanor stops by the grocery market before home, whistling all the while.

* * *

She wakes up in the Good Place.  

* * *

Tahani is as beautiful as she was back on Earth.  She can’t stop staring.

Tahani doesn’t remember her.

She feels like curling up and dying.

Again, apparently.

* * *

Chidi’s wonderful.  But he doesn’t understand why Eleanor refuses to spend time with Tahani.  So he pushes them together, insisting Tahani is the way she becomes a better person.

And then they become friends.  Not lovers.  Friends. 

Eleanor wants to kiss her.  She stops herself.

This is actual, absolute _torture_.

* * *

The Good Place is a lie.   

Suddenly, everything makes sense.  Before Michael can wipe their memories, she pulls Tahani into a fierce, bruising kiss. 

Tahani kisses her back.

* * *

They’ve been looped so many times, she’s not quite sure why they’re still being tortured.  Surely they weren’t _that_ horrible back on Earth.

She sometimes steals Tahani away with her to the Medium place. 

Tahani never gets back her memories.  Eleanor tells her of them in a low voice when they’re in bed together, and wishes that they could have actually had a chance to know each other better.

Tahani stares at her after she says so, and then laughs.  “We’re on what, loop iteration 928 and you think we don’t know each other?”

“Oh,” she says, pleasure curling in her stomach.  Tahani rolls her eyes at her, and they go for round two.

* * *

“Why?” she asks Michael.

Michael’s given up on torturing them.  He just keeps the façade going because it gets him points back in the Bad Place.  He’s more of a friend now.

“Why what, Eleanor?” asks Michael.  He sounds tired.  “I’ve told you a million times that I can’t read your mind.”

“Huh,” she says.  “Still think you’re lying about that.”

Michael gives her a look.

She hurries on before Michael can decide not to answer her out of spite.  “Why us?  Why the four of us?”

“Well, Eleanor,” says Michael after a pause, “I hate to say this, but you were kind of a shirt person back on Earth.”

She shrugs.  It doesn’t sting anymore.

“Yeah, I was an ash-hole.  But so was every other person on Earth.  Why me?”

“Tahani and you were going to hate each other,” laughs Michael.  “But then the both of you died at the same time, and I thought, why not?”

“That’s all?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Michael, “Plus, I wanted to see you pine after her.  Love is the easiest way to torture you pathetic humans.”

She narrows her eyes at him.

“Humans,” he amends. 

“Well, it worked,” she admits.

Michael’s expression turns to pity.

“Can’t you give her memories back?” she presses on. 

“No,” says Michael.

Maybe it’s better like this, anyway.

Here, they’re on equal footing.  Back on Earth, they weren’t.

And besides, they had years between endless loops to get to know each other.  To fall in love, over and over again.

Tahani’s right.

What’s one lifetime compared to the many they had already lived?

(Besides, Tahani’s heard so much about their interactions on Earth, Eleanor’s sure Tahani already feels like she’s lived it.  And she already knows Tahani liked her just as fiercely back.  Because come on, no one hosts ten charity events in the same city in less than a month.  Girl was in _intense_ denial.)

* * *

“I was so not,” insists Tahani later that night.

They’re cuddling, and there’s some weird TV show playing on the background.  They’re in Tahani’s place because the clowns still secretly freak Eleanor out.

“Ten,” she repeats.  “ _Ten_ charity events.”

“People host events, Eleanor,” she says.  “It was my job.  There were so many things to campaign for, you don’t understand.”

“In a _month_ ,” she finishes.

Tahani stops mid-sentence.  She opens her mouth.  Then closes it.

“About that outfit,” she tries, instead, and Eleanor laughs and waggles her eyebrows.

“You loved it,” she said.

“I love it,” repeats Tahani.  “It’s in the bedroom, right now.”  Her eyes are intense and full of hunger.

“No,” she says, laughing, “Don’t tell me you asked Janet.”

“She doesn’t know what we’ll be using it for!” protests Tahani.  Eleanor’s already untangling herself from Tahani.

“Naughty,” she teases, and disappears into the bedroom. 

 

 

 


End file.
